


The Replacements

by valda



Series: Sentence-Combining Fics [3]
Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Murder, Other, Past Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-06
Updated: 2015-08-06
Packaged: 2018-04-13 09:05:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4515999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valda/pseuds/valda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>None of them is ever quite right, somehow, but Kevin always gives them a fair chance first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Replacements

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written to combine six sentences submitted to me on Tumblr. Credits at the end.

“They keep making me do things, Vanessa,” Kevin said regretfully, smearing his hand across the control board. “They keep saying things and making me do things. Carlos never said anything like that.”

He paused, and his smile threatened to falter. “Well,” he amended cheerfully, “he never said it for a whole year, anyway.”

Kevin hummed a little, tilting his head to one side and considering his work. It wasn’t quite right. It needed a little something extra.

“I don’t know why anyone would want to go back to Night Vale,” he continued. “Night Vale isn’t a home. It’s a horrible, horrible place that rejects people. New Desert Bluffs? That’s home.”

He paused, cocked his head to the other side. “What _about_ a dog?” he said. “A dog isn’t a person, Vanessa. But that’s very funny.”

~

“I always thought carnivals were terrible things.”

Kevin glanced over at the man beside him. He wasn’t a scientist. He wasn’t even particularly good-looking. But he was here, and that counted for something.

“Carnivals have always been wonderful in Desert Bluffs,” he assured the man. What was his name again? Dylan? “Everyone smiling and laughing and being happy!”

The man’s lips curved upward in a pleasing way. “That’s really nice. It’s a nice change.”

Yes. Dylan. That was his name. And Kevin had noticed that Dylan was short, and that he wore glasses, and that he liked donuts.

(“Eh, I don’t know about donuts,” Kevin had said. “They seem suspicious. How come they need a hole?” And Dylan had laughed and laughed. They’d shared a happy moment, and now Kevin knew so much about Dylan, and Dylan knew so much about Kevin, and it was wonderful.)

“Unfortunately, we can’t get on the rollercoaster, but there’s plenty more to do,” Kevin promised. “So many things! And our being here will help all the workers be more productive. It’s a win-win for everyone.”

They strolled together beneath colorful awnings, past ticket booths and shooting games with targets that looked like hooded figures, or the Night Vale sheriff’s secret police, or Night Vale City Council. Kevin giggled to himself. How terrible it would be, to hate your own town that much! “Do you want to play a game?” he asked.

“I was kind of thinking I’d like to ride that,” Dylan replied, pointing. Ahead of them stood a giant wheel, white and pure, festooned with two-seater cars that it spun lazily up toward the sun.

“Ohhhh!” Kevin squealed, clapping his hands. “That’s my favorite!” He and Dylan were getting along just splendidly! Everything was just marvelous. Impulsively, he wrapped himself around Dylan’s arm.

“Uh,” Dylan said, cringing away a little. Kevin tightened his grip. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something. Um.” Dylan glanced down at Kevin’s suit. “That’s either blood or the world’s most disgusting ketchup.”

Kevin raised his eyes to Dylan’s. (This sometimes had an unsettling effect on people, although Carlos had never reacted with anything other than acceptance and friendliness.) “It’s blood,” he said.

Dylan was silent for a moment. “Ah,” he said finally.

“Now come on!” Kevin tugged at his arm. “It looks like we can get on the last empty car.”

~

Kevin was feeling a little peckish. It had been awhile since lunch, and he’d probably need some extra energy when he went back to pick Dylan up. Kevin stretched his arms up over his head, letting his back pop in a pleasant way, and came to a stop at the nearest concession stand. “I’d like some popcorn, please!” he beamed.

Somewhere off behind him, someone raised their voice. “Hey, buddy, you all right?”

“Oh gods, I think he’s dead,” said another voice.

Then all the carnival-goers in the area were rushing past Kevin. He laughed. “So dramatic!”

Kevin reached out to take the bag of popcorn from the attendant’s careless grip. Looking down at it, he almost frowned, catching himself just in time. “Excuse me,” he said sweetly, “but there isn’t any butter on this popcorn.”

“Dude,” the attendant said, craning to see the commotion behind him, “there is a _dead body_ on the ferris wheel and you’re worried about the butter?”

Kevin blinked at the attendant, but managed to hold his smile. “You _aren’t_ worried about the butter? This is your _job_. You should take more pride in your work!”

The attendant finally looked at Kevin. She glanced down at Kevin’s suit, glanced back up, grabbed the butter spigot and squeezed an unhealthy amount over Kevin’s popcorn.

“Thank you!” Kevin trilled. He strolled away, humming tonelessly to himself.

~

The rain looked like it wasn’t going to stop. Rain was rare in Night Vale. Carlos just kept staring out the window at it. Cecil didn’t think Carlos had seen rain at all in the desert otherworld.

“Do you want dinner?” he asked finally, moving to stand next to Carlos, raising a hand to touch his shoulder.

Carlos jumped before Cecil’s fingers could make contact. He turned his head, caught Cecil’s eye briefly, let out a huff of breath, and dropped his gaze to the floor. “Oh,” he said. “Yeah, we should probably do that.”

Cecil faltered, then let his hand fall back to his side. “Um,” he ventured, “what are you thinking about?”

Carlos shook his head. Then he shuddered a little. But when he opened his mouth, all he said was, “Nothing.”

~

They were slowly rising, and the whole of Desert Bluffs lay before them. There was the radio station, where Kevin kept everyone informed of all the important news. There was the vast, empty hotel. There was the hot yoga studio. There was Carlos’ apartment…

Kevin shook his head, closing his eyes and smiling broadly. “Our town sure is beautiful, isn’t it?” he said.

Dylan was sitting across from him in the car, for proper weight distribution. He wasn’t looking at Kevin, but he wasn’t looking at the view, either. “Sure,” he said, absently.

Carlos was never inattentive.

“Really look at it,” Kevin encouraged him. “Look at our beautiful home.”

Dylan scratched at the back of his head. “Kevin,” he said, “I don’t think I’m ready for this. I thought I could—you know, date again. I mean, I haven’t seen Jim in over two years now. But…it just doesn’t feel right.” He still wasn’t looking at Kevin, or the town, or anything. “I’m sorry.”

Kevin’s smile was starting to hurt, in that good way that meant he was working hard. “You don’t have to decide anything right now!” he sang. “There’s so much time for us to get to know each other! I’m sure after a while you’ll be ready.”

“No,” Dylan said, “I think I want to go back to Night Vale. I mean, I know it’s horrible. And I know Jim probably isn’t waiting for me. But…it’s my town. It’s where I was born. The people I love are there. I—”

Dylan’s voice broke off into a gurgle, and the car pitched violently forward, and Kevin stared down at him, fingers pressing into his throat.

“No,” Kevin said slowly, still smiling, “no one is going back to Night Vale ever again.”

Dylan might have put up more of a struggle years ago, before coming to this desert, before wandering lost and confused for two years, back when he still lived in that horrible town. But now his hands slapped feebly against Kevin’s arms, and his mouth let out quiet, useless croaks, and his legs kicked and spasmed and did nothing at all, and Kevin bore down and crushed Dylan’s throat with a loud, satisfying crunch.

“You’re all staying here,” Kevin said sweetly. “This is your home. Desert Bluffs is your home. And I’m here, to help you all adjust.”

**Author's Note:**

> The following sentences were used in this fic. Thanks for the submissions!
> 
> octoberspirit: “Dude, there is a /dead body/ on the ferris wheel and you’re worried about the butter?”
> 
> Anon: Eh, I don’t know about donuts, they seem suspicious. How come they need a hole?
> 
> doctor-sherly: “What about a dog?”
> 
> realhousewivesofnightvale: “That’s either blood or the world’s most disgusting ketchup.”
> 
> doctorcrocker: “The rain looked like it wasn’t going to stop.”
> 
> Anon: “I don’t think I’m ready for this”
> 
> To those of you whose sentences didn’t make it—generalcupcakery, queerqueenofcanada, the-child-from-italy and another anon—I apologize! I’ll try to use your sentences for the next one…


End file.
